The Courage of Neville Longbottom
by riveriver
Summary: As Neville endures another round of torture from Crabbe, he remembers what keeps him fighting.
1. I

Neville Longbottom was used to taking discipline from Crabbe and Goyle. He was not, however, used to Malfoy jumping to his defence.

"You turned soft ever since you slimed your way out of killing Dumbledore," Crabbe sneered.

"Crabbe! I won't stand by and watch him die, not like this, not here!"

"Then don't look!"

There was a fire raging within Neville that gave him the strength to keep eye-contact with Draco Malfoy and wonder what his game was, even with the force being used upon him. The tip of Crabbe's wand was pressing further and further into his wind pipe, but he never blinked, not once, not even when Malfoy rounded on Goyle as a last resort.

Neville knew that he would have not moved even if his wrists and ankles had not been bound with chains. He refused to give Crabbe the gratification that he was ready to pass out. He was going to stare at Malfoy's back for the next ten years before he so much as even shuddered and cried uncle.

Finally, finally, Draco slipped, but when he caved and looked at the friend of Harry Potter with a mixture of hopelessness and fear, it was _her_ eyes came to the front of Neville's mind. The sudden drop in his shoulders was so significant that it didn't go unnoticed, and that there was a peculiar air of serenity about him that was surprising given the circumstances.

_"Don't give up, Neville," _she said. Her eyes were blazing with the determination that was aroused every time somebody doubted her about Dirigible Plums and the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

There was only so much you could take, day after day, but when you had somebody to keep your feet on the ground and heal you and pick you up and be everything a friend could be, all the shit you took in the end was worth it because you had that somebody to fight for. Neville had that somebody. Neville had Luna. Ginny had Harry. Harry had Ginny and Ron and Hermione. He probably hadn't acknowledged it, but Harry had Neville fighting his corner, too.

"Come back to Earth, Longbottom!" Crabbe jerked Neville's head up with his wand, so much so that he was now faced with the view of the dark ceiling of the dungeon. But anything, he concluded, was better than having Crabbe's flat nose in his face.

Vincent Crabbe's fist collided hard with Neville's jaw, and he fell lifelessly off the chair. "Or maybe not. Earth is full. Full with scum like you."

"You're a witty one, Crabbe. How long did it take you to come up with that?"

Neville paid hard for his retort, but he did not scream as the chair was thrown on top of him thrice over and still did not break. He did not shout as he felt another rib shatter instead of the chair. He did not cry as the Leg-Locker Curse was put on him for good measure. Neville Longbottom more or less asked for more. He had done since day one, ever since he had stepped onto the train in September.

"Why are you smiling?" Crabbe was becoming increasingly annoyed, and Neville hoped that the gorilla had hurt his toe from the kick he had just aimed at the side of the chair. "You can stand up to Carrow and Snape but not me?"

When Neville did not answer Crabbe shouted, "_Crucio_!"

But the pain did not come. Draco, out of nowhere, had thrown himself at Crabbe. It seemed that all the anger and frustration and fear for everything he stood for was being pounded senseless into Crabbe. Unfortunately, Crabbe appeared to feel nothing from skinny Draco Malfoy.

"I told you, I won't stand-by-and-watch-him-die!" The words rang through the dungeon with every punch.

"It's okay," Neville managed in a distant, distracted voice that Luna would have been proud of. "There's only so much pure blood even Crabbe is willing to waste. He'll be done soon."

He vaguely noted that Goyle had finally had the idea to wipe the smug look of his face and jump away from the door he was leaning against to restrain Draco. Neville wondered what he was so bothered about that he was ready to jump to a Gryffindor's defence for – especially a Gryffindor he had tormented relentlessly for nearly nigh on seven years straight.

"Get him out of here," Crabbe said to Goyle. "Now. This one's going the same way as his parents." He was pointing at Neville's broken body.

_I won't, I won't, I won't._

Neville closed his eyes and Luna's radiance came floating back to him, leading him to his happy place. After the last three successful attempts at the Cruciatus Curse, he found that he'd bitten down on his bottom lip so hard in a struggle not to cry out that he was bleeding profusely and the side of his head was throbbing. His legs were still bound, as were his ankles, and his wrists. The chains were cutting into him again, and the Leg-Locker Curse was not helping.

As soon he acknowledged that he had a splitting headache, the pain of his shoulders hit him, and yet still, he made no sound.

"_Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!_" The pain subsided only to give Crabbe enough time to aim another kick in his groin._"_Know who you are, Longbottom! _Crucio!_"

Luna. Luna. Luna. Every burst of "Crucio!" and unheard jinxes came as packaged deal with Luna. Then Ginny. He thought of her courage as she stood by his side and led the DA through hardship, red hair flaming behind her as she refused to let people see the pain she was going through while she waited dutifully for her Chosen One. Then Harry came with everything that was Harry, and then Ron and Hermione.

"_Crucio!_" Mum. Dad. He would not go down like his parents, not today, but he couldn't deny that he would be damn proud if he did.

Gran. Uncle Algy. The DA. Hagrid.

Neville Longbottom always came back to Luna.

Sometime later or maybe in no time at all, Neville slipped into the oncoming darkness, and with the surrender came the relief that he would not feel a thing when Crabbe attacked his unconscious form. He'd made it. He would see his friends again. He would live another day to see their faces. Dumbledore's Army, defending their world one step at a time, together again.

With little effort, Neville slipped into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Now, many of you won't agree with Malfoy being 'soft', but it is my belief that he just got tired. He got tired of all the fighting and being forced to take a side that he just wanted it all to end for his family. Imagine: Voldy is intruding in your mansion and using it as HQ, inviting deranged werewolves that want to eat you into your living room, and invading basically everything you own and your family name stands for. Your father has no wand, your mother is sick and scared, and your family's reputation is demolished. You'd want things safe for your family, too, whether you were a Slytherin or not. You'd want to be respected all over again.<p>

If you want one exhibit, gladly turn to Chapter 23 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Draco could have easily given up Harry – he _knew _behind that Stinging Jinx Harry was there, yet he did nothing. He was as scared as his mother. Different, I think, than it would have been if we were discussing Year 5.

But that is my belief.

**Disclaimer: **I wish, and you wish, but this is J.K's world, not mine. I'm just messing with it.


	2. II

"You amaze me, Neville."

"I knew he would get bored of me sooner or later. I just had to sit it out."

"The Carrows wouldn't have let you die, anyway – they can't – but sometimes... I do wonder."

"Nah, I'm too fun for them."

Neville was spread out along the Gryffindor common room's couch. Ginny sat beside him, a bowl of solution of strained and pickled Murtlap tentacles in her lap. She dabbed gently at Neville's grazed arms and the cuts on his ankles and wrists from the tight chains. As she did so, a slight pout came to her and her eyebrows furrowed.

"What's up?"

The expression cleared as quickly as it had formed. "I'm just wishing for Dittany. I can't do much for you," she said lightly, but Neville knew he was far from the truth. With six brothers and a formidable opponent as a mother, Ginny was good at thinking on the spot. "You're lucky we managed to get to Madam Pomfrey before a rib punctured a lung. You've never come from... _detention_ so _mangled_before."

The school nurse had been forbidden from treating the students unless their injuries posed significant risk. The Carrows had opted to make Madam Pomfrey redundant altogether, but Professor McGonagall had put her foot down and dragged Snape into the picture. He had said something about a waste of magical blood. The Carrows had reluctantly agreed. Now, Madam Pomfrey did what she could, but she had been rendered useless for the most part. She could not do her duty, and that irritated her.

"After all," Alecto Carrow had said before admitting magical blood was better than dead magical blood, "what is the point of detention if they are just going to get healed back up again?"

Scrapes, cuts, broken toes and fingers and other 'minor' injuries were therefore to be completely disregarded, and Neville had a lot of what were to be considered minors. Crabbe and Goyle specialised in minors.

"Ginny," Neville breathed heavily as she soothed a particularly bad wound on his neck. "I know you better than that."

Ginny put the bowl of Murtlap to the side of her and reached out for Neville's face. He thought she was going to start on the gash on his cheek, but instead she scraped his forever falling hair out of his face.

He waited for her answer. He resolved that it wasn't as if he were going to be going anywhere anytime soon. He could wait.

The Weasley finally appeared to have found the right words, but she had a hard time forcing them out. "How can you be so optimistic?"

Neville closed his eyes, again, and let himself be comforted. His and Ginny's friendship was nothing more than platonic, but the smoothing of his hair reminded him of what he wanted the world to be like and why he was fighting and, honestly, of just how tired he really was.

When he didn't answer, she carried on. "You really scared us, Neville. You were taken down before dinner and we didn't find you until before midnight. That was two days ago."

He covered his surprise. "At least I'm out of the hospital wing now, though, right?"

Ginny sighed, her previous point just having been proven. But Ginny wasn't forgiving, and she continued even though they both knew she was right. "You really scared Luna."

"Blimey, Ginny, you sure know how to hit home. Thanks."

She smiled in spite of herself and her hand finally dropped. She went back to healing his 'minor' injuries, becoming even more and more generous with how much she was using and on what. "Thanks," he said again.

Ignoring this, she went on still. "Something snapped inside of that girl."

"What's the time?" Neville tried his hand at changing the subject. His chest was becoming tight.

"She got solitary confinement when she found you. Terry only just managed to get the two of you under one of Mad-Eye's old cloaks Hermione slipped me and drag you away. Luna went happily, knowing you were safe, even though she got an extra day because you mysteriously wound up in Madam Pomfrey's hands."

Neville drew in a sharp breath, although he did not know whether it was because Ginny had just bandaged up his arm tightly with "_Ferulo_!", or because Luna was willing to sacrifice so much. He decided to get Terry Boot by the tie and demand why he hadn't gone instead of Luna. He was tougher. He'd done a week in the dungeon's after only three weeks of term, surviving on little but the warmth of his DA galleon, bread and spat-in water.

His eyes remained closed as he listened to Ginny's calm breathing over the howling November winds against the window and the roaring fire.

Ginny Weasley was strong and stubborn and determined and she deliberately let her words sink in. Neville was their beacon of hope, their true leader, but he was noble to the point of recklessness and he needed to keep his head down, not for her sake, but for Luna's. It was plain as day that the two needed each other.

"I know you want to help," Ginny said after a while. "I do too, but first help the people who need you most."

"Bit rich, coming from you, ordering us to get that sword, and for what? We needed you. We need you more than Harry does now."

Neville was slowly becoming agitated. His smile had gone and his eyes were open. Ginny stared back defiantly, letting his outburst slide, but daring him to continue all the same.

He gave in. He refused to fight with his best friend.

"Sorry."

"That's okay." She got up and muttered, "Scourgify" and placed the now empty bowl behind her, wiping her hands on her shirt. "You just need to look before you leap."

"You know I can't do that, Gin."

"Try, please."

"Mm."

Awkwardly, she managed to sit him up and re-bandage his chest, his sides still tender from his ribs having been broken and re-grown again and again. With another gasp of breath, she settled him back onto the couch, knowing there was no way that she could get him up to his dormitory even if she put all her strength into a Hover Charm. "Do you want me to stay? The armchair's comfortable enough," she said, but she said it with a knot in her stomach, for it was the Trio's favourite armchair.

Neville noticed her slight pause. He knew it, too. "No, it's fine. It's late. You should go up. I'm better now."

"If you're going to be this mascot for the DA, you need to learn to be able to lie convincingly."

"Okay."

He was already drifting off the sleep, despite his worry for Luna and his desperate need to see her. He did not hurt as much. Not physically.

Ginny settled into the chair anyway, taking advantage of his weariness.

"I _am_ sorry," Neville mumbled again, although he couldn't for the life of him remember why he was so completely exhausted. He'd even forgotten that he was going to make Terry Boot cry.

"I know. Go to sleep, Neville. Luna will be here when you wake up." And at that, he smiled the first genuine smile in what felt like years and, although less easily, he fell into the darkness a bit more willingly as he dreamt happy dreams of blonde hair and a pair of silver-grey eyes which did not belong to Draco Malfoy.


End file.
